Light glared into the room, piercing through the walls and mounds of blankets. The miniature fortress of covers and pillows were thrown off in a valiant attempt to resurface to the outer world. As the warriors head scanned the room though there was a deep groan. The sun was still too bright; it was still too early in the morning. The being perched on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off, the other folded with their foot touching their knee, and their hands in the hole that was created. Something wasn’t allowing them to sleep and the being decided to finally give in after hours of struggling. Staggering to their feet, they moved to rub their eye. Their nail clicked against something metallic. A pair of bright yellow eyes popped open and fingers spread to grasp at the metal object. First they twirled a small metallic ball between thumb and index finger, then traced upward until skin was met. Their face blanched. A piercing. It felt right, but at the same time wrong. They turned to find a mirror to survey any other damage.



They felt it before they saw it. There should have been a jiggle, maybe even a bounce. Their hands flew up and clutched at a chest that should have been much squishier. Slowly the hand trailed down her body. Just below the hips the fingers brushed against a new appendage. Silently the being looked up, staring dumbly at the mirror. Realization hit like a blow to the head, and the being fell to the floor, and clutched a pillow over mouth.



Horror, horror, horror!

It’s a boy!



Never had Ayacho’s face been as red as it was at the moment. The day Grandpa had said she looked cute in that dress when she was ten did not even come close to matching the brilliant shade of tomato Ayacho wore today. Ayacho fidgeted a bit and pulled the pillow down from his face to scan himself in the mirror. He had a … cute face. The bottom of his black hair snaked down the very bottom his neck. But it was messy, messy hair. He reached a hand up to try to fix it, though only further preceded in making more of a mess.



He got to his feet, staggering a bit. His concentration was focused on his balance, which he almost lost when he took another glance in the mirror. He hadn’t grown an inch! This brought on a pout followed by a flush for being so utterly feminine, and then lastly a reminder that they were female until recently. As he trailed over to the closet to find some clothing that may look less feminine, he tried to figure out what could have been the cause of this. He went backward from last night to attempt to figure out what happened: There was the daily nighttime routine, a bath and washing of the face. While the water did taste a little off, there was nothing unusual. He had gone exploring the town while she was female to get away. There were loud people in the dorm. But also… In his mind he could picture the body of an orange haired male smoking.



Suddenly, brilliance. That bright haired drug addict was also a caster of … magic. Thus, a witch? While, anyway, there was no other way for his (he paused to look at himself in the mirror again) new appearance. Except for science, of course…He clenched his fist and held it before his face. That man would pay. He blinked in the mirror, then threw the shirt away. This was horrid… Some many of the clothes would look fine if he was still a girl but being masculine was a lot harder. He pulled the tight tank top he used for sleeping and paused before he pulled another shirt on. There were still the simple toned muscles of a gymnast. Gymnasts couldn’t be broad shouldered or thick skinned. He glared into the mirror, silently thinking, ‘So this is why I look so childish…’



Ayacho pulled the shirt over his shirt, and fingered the low feminine neck. Flustered he grabbed a bright blue, short sleeved hoodie from the closet and threw that on too. It was tight, but at least he looked slightly less whoreish. He stifled a laugh at that thought. Why was a male so concerned with clothing? He pulled on a pair of a pants, scattered accessories, and then turned back to the mirror to survey the damage. Everything seemed in order and he looked at least semi-masculine. It would do well enough until he could find new clothing or find the disgusting witch-man. He moved to the bedroom door, about to open it when he heard the chatter of the annoying bird. He slammed his hands over his mouth, and took a couple steps back from the door.



A great obstacle had come before him. Tash had been awakened the previous night and Ayacho had done what she could to avoid the small blond girl and make it to the bathroom. Though he did appear similar to his old body, he still was not the girl he used to be. They would not recognize who he was or if they did what would they think?! Would they even believe him? He fell to his butt, landing on a pile of pillows and blankets. Allowing himself to fall backwards and land on his back, he stared up at the ceiling. The light glaring in from the window would not allow him to stare up for to long and he turned away. The smell wafting into the room was tempting enough. He looked up again and his eyes caught sight of the window.



He twisted about and stumbled to his feet, staggering away from the blankets that had wrapped around his legs. As he pulled open the window, he planned out something of an excuse.